


To Bargain with an Abrasax

by aeolians



Series: The Abrasax Dynasty Chronicles [1]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Gen, Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeolians/pseuds/aeolians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the murder of his mother, Balem discovers that the key to a box he inherited from Seraphi upon her death ended up in the inheritance of his brother Titus, and Balem will try nearly any trick to get it back.</p><p>Unfortunately for Balem, Titus is more cunning than expected.</p><p>[<em>Created for JA Fic Challenge, the challenge words have been bolded. See further notes at the end of the fic.</em>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Bargain with an Abrasax

In the Abrasax refinery, things were not going very well for its manager.

Since the death—no, _murder_ —last year of the Abrasax Sovereign, Seraphi, Chicanery Night had noticed more than ever that Lord Balem, the late matriarch's eldest and primary heir, was determined to show the universe that he was just the person to fill his mother's shoes. So to speak, that is. The relatively young heir had proven much in a very short time. As an astute businessman he had raised profits higher and faster than his late mother ever had, and as the new head of the most respected and feared family in the universe he had shown that the Abrasax clan still deserves that respect and fear even after their loss.

Of course, these results didn't come without extra hours of work. It had become clear to Mr. Night that he was no longer just a manager of an important refinery; he had become the right-hand of Lord Balem, the one who kept the busy lord up to date on the latest harvests, the quality of the product, and the day-to-day tasks.

And he had become little more than an around-the-clock secretary. A servant. A glorified  _droid_.

Mr. Night knew that his employer would dislike the news he had just received, most ardently so. He clutched the transmission screen between his two hands, well aware at how poorly this could go for him. Taking a calming breath the splice pulled aside the thick black curtain into the dimly lit sitting room of Balem's private quarters of the refinery, where the lord lounged over a plate of freshly roasted meat.

Balem hissed as Mr. Night slipped unnoticed into the room, looking down at where he had just cut his hand on his knife. Red blood was welling up from the wound, running swiftly down his palm and between his fingers as the gold blade clattered onto the black glass floor.

This didn't bode well for Mr. Night's task.

"Fetch a goblet," Balem ordered in his usual, rasping tone. A Sim droid nodded and made their way to the side of the room as Chicanery stood in the shadowy entrance.

"Mr. Night," Balem called out, making his subordinate jump, "Do step forward, you know I hate it when you hover in the background like a frightened child."

"O-of course, Lord Balem," Mr. Night stuttered as he shuffled silently closer. The droid returned with a gold goblet on a tray, which Balem held his hand over as he let the blood run into it. Chicanery shivered; he had heard rumors of a creature on the planet Earth who drank blood and lived forever. Had his employer adopted this habit in order to startle those beneath him and instill fear?

If so, he was succeeding.

"What is it?" Balem asked as the last drops of blood hit the goblet. Taking a cloth from the droid, he wiped his hand as the Sim took the goblet and left the room.

"I, uh, have an FTL to report, my lord."

"Yes, well?"

"As you are aware, we long ago planted droids amongst the entourages of your siblings to keep check of any behaviors that may cause you any—"

"SILENCE!"

Mr. Night flinched at Balem's outburst, the sound echoing through the vaulted ceiling above.

"Mr. Night," Balem said again, once more back to a hoarse whisper, "There is no need to tell me what I already know. Why are you here?"

Mr. Night, at a loss for words, took a few steps forward to show the other man exactly why he was there.

"What is this?" Balem asked, looking at the screen.

"It's a feed from one of the droids, sire. I believe the object on the round table may be of . . . particular interest to you."

A second droid had stepped forward while Mr. Nights spoke, this one with a bowl of RegenX into which Balem placed his injured hand as he watched the feed. In moments, though, the table Mr. Night had mentioned had come into plain view and Balem jerked his hand out of the bowl, sending it flying.

"Mr. Night, if this is what I think it is . . ."

"It seems to be, Lord Balem, that it is _precisely_  what you think it is. All evidence points to it being a part of your brother's **inheritance** from the former Abrasax Sovereign."

Balem's brows knit together, rage running rampant across his features before they smoothed over, a low chuckle just barely catching Mr. Night's sharp ears.

"This is just like Mother, finding a way to have the last laugh."

Mr. Night remained silent as Balem seemed to sit bemused in thought. After a time, Balem stood suddenly, crossing the room and handing the transmission to Mr. Night as he passed.

"Follow," he barked, not bothering to look back at the splice who scrambled to obey. Passing through two of the rooms they made their way into the large room that held Balem's RegenX bath. This one was smaller than the one housed on Balem's ship, but was quite servicable for his visits to the refinery. Mr. Night paused just inside the room as the eldest Abrasax made his way to a large mirror.

Balem looked at his reflection for a moment before settling on the blood staining his silver and black robe. Raising an arched brow, he disrobed down to his pants before turning to his secretary.

"Send a missive to my dear brother. Tell him that I am . . . simply _longing_ to see him again. After all, we barely talked at Mother's ceremony for the transfer of titles, and I do ever so miss his company."

"Yes, my lord," Mr. Night said with a bow, waiting to be dismissed. But no curt order nor an offhand hand wave came, and Mr. Night looked hastily down to the floor as Balem shucked his pants and walked stoically over to the bath of RegenX. He could hear, though, as the liquid splashed softly against his employer's skin. A deep breath, a louder splash, and Chicanery new that his employer had dunked himself under the surface. Looking up, the refinery manager watched two Servitants step forward for when Balem resurfaced.

Before he could look down, Balem's head broke the surface of the water as he stood. RegenX trickled down his sharp shoulder blades towards the small of his back.

Mr. Night hastily looked down again, but not before noting how flecked Balem's skin was _everywhere_. Water once again splashed as Balem walked out of the bath, the Servitants stepping in try dry and robe him.

"Mr. Night," Balem said as he adjusted the gauzy black robe that trailed behind him, "I am quite sick of holographic transmissions with my siblings. I do believe it's time to visit Titus in person, don't you think?"

"Yes, Lord Balem."

As soon as his employer waved a dismissive hand, Chicanery Night scampered.

—————

Within hours, Balem had gone from his ship to one of Titus' gilded transfer cruisers, quickly arriving within the docking bay of his youngest sibling's palatial ship. Sneering at the ornate statues and new crystal chandeliers, Balem couldn't help but once again realize how fast Titus must be going through his inheritance as the Third Primary of the House of Abrasax.

Descending from the cruiser, Balem landed with his entourage just behind him. Titus stood draped in a loose, nearly-sleeveless tunic of black accented with red beading throughout. He looked as if blood had rained upon him.

"Balem, welcome to my humble ship," the youngest Abrasax said with a polite bow. The elder noted that just beyond his brother a single female splice stood in waiting. She didn't defer to Balem.

"Titus."

"Please, come." Titus stood aside, arm stretched towards the long walkway behind him. After a moment, Balem started to walk and they made their way slowly down the aisle. "I was so happy to have received your lovely missive. We barely talked at the Ceremony of Titles, and I do feel as if there is much we should discuss."

Balem raised an eyebrow but didn't turn to look at his brother. "Such as?"

"Oh, this and that," Titas said flippantly, waving his hand through the air. "But such matters can wait until after dinner. You will dine with me, won't you, Balem? I prepared a most delicious meal for you. Did you know that the planet Nostro has a **delicacy**  that when roasted smells of the most exotic pepper but when tasted becomes more like a fine honeyed wine on your tongue? It's simply delicious, brother, and I _insist_ that you try it."

By now they had reached Titus' red and gold dining hall, which Balem found surprisingly small considering his brother's usual opulence.

"I'm surprised, brother, that you still keep such a small hall for entertaining. Is that not what you're best at? Frivolity and entertainment?"

Titus paused just as he reached his own chair and watched as Balem sat stiffly down in his at the far end of the table, a small smile playing at the edge of his elder brother's mouth.

"Perhaps, dear brother, your aversion to intimacy is what makes you not realize that this is a . . . cozy room, as some would say, and a small but comfortable room invites conversation, unlike those large throne rooms that _you_ keep."

Balem's smile grew tight.

"But no matter, let us eat!"

At their master's words, human and splice Servitants came forward with plates and bowls, and in no time Balem found himself looking at a fairly sizable feast for just two people. Not that this was surprising—of course Titus would flaunt more goods in his face even at the expense of his own funds. He would do everything and anything to look as prosperous as possible in Balem's presence. This meal was far from being a dent in Titus' funds, but Balem was well aware that in time Titus would start to feel very sore for wealth. It was well down the road, but everyone knew that Titus' planets were most certainly the poorest of all the Abrasax properties.

All Balem had to do was bide his time and watch.

"Now, dearest brother, what gives me the honor of your presence this evening? It is a rare treat to have any two Abrasax siblings in one room, let alone the First Primary!"

Balem began to sip his wine, watching Titus from over the rim.

Quickly realizing that Balem had no intention of answering just yet, Titus quickly continued. "Just the other day I was thinking of our dear sister Kalique. Now there is a pure soul if ever I did see one."

"I did not think you would recognize a pure soul if you saw one, brother."

"Oh, Balem, you wound me! If there is anything I can recognize, it's a pure soul. They tend to stand out in a crowd, do they not?" Suddenly Titus changed his demeanor, adopting a surprised look. "Don't tell me that you think Kalique doesn't have a pure soul? Now brother, that would be just too cruel to say of our dear one."

Balem paused. "Kalique is certainly the kindest of us all, is she not?"

"Precisely, brother. Why, I don't believe she could hurt even the lowest of the splices."

They paused to take a bite of food and drink, and Balem thought about the sibling that came between them. True, she was the kindest of them all, but that certainly didn't mean that she wasn't capable of smiling and manipulating those in her way to get what she wanted. Balem had seen her in action long ago, and he knew just how masterfully she could play the politics game to get where she wanted without dirtying her own hands.

After a minute of silence, Titus spoke up. "Did I ever tell you the **tale**  of how Mother gave Kalique her dragonfly emblem?"

Balem paused mid-sip and slowly lowered his goblet.

"You were at the refinery on Jupiter back then, and I hadn't seen you for . . . goodness, I suppose it was two millennia, was it not? Well, Mother took Kalique and myself to visit her favorite planet. I was quite young then, only just nearing my third millennium, so a special trip with Mother and Kalique seemed very exciting at the time.

"When we reach the planet, I could see why mother loved it so much. Beautiful flowers, bright, sparkling water, and hills that went as far as the eye could see . . . it was truly a touching sight, brother," Titus said softly, putting a hand to his chest and looking distant, as if in remembrance.

"Mother was a wonderful guide on that planet, pointing out the animals and insects and foliage as we passed. Kalique was particularly taken with a large tawny owl that we found in a tree we passed by, and I remember her saying how wise he looked before turning to say, 'Now if only you could be that wise, brother, then maybe you could join Balem and help with the running of Abrasax Industries!'" Titus laughed once, humorless. "Well, to this day we can't fault sweet Kalique for hopeful dreaming, can we, brother?"

Balem sat silent as Titus took a large drink of wine before continuing.

"That evening as the sun was just beginning to descend, a winged insect flew around Kalique as she picked windflowers to take back to her alcazar. It wasn't her first trip to this planet, you see; she had been there long before and was quite inspired by its architecture while building her alcazar on Cerise, but of course you know that. Oh, my apologies—I suppose you don't due to never having been there to visit her."

Balem pursed his lips and breathed sharply through his nose.

"Well as I was saying, Kalique kept having this winged creature fly around her. Kalique being, well, Kalique, she immediately started to look closer at it even before Mother told her whether or not it was dangerous. Mother called it a _dragonfly_. I, of course, became rather intrigued by the name, although our sister was more intrigued by the fact that the creature glittered like a living iridescent **jewel**  in the light of the planet's sun. The dragonfly alighted ever so delicately on Kalique shoulder and proceeded to stay there like a delicate brooch.

"Unsurprisingly, Kalique was fascinated and wished to keep the thing, but Mother made her let it fly off when it wanted. Come her next birthing anniversary, Mother gifted Kalique with a seal of a dragonfly, along with a delicate matching pin made of gems called _opals_  that Mother had taken from the very planet we had visited."

Sitting in silence, Balem watched as his youngest sibling empty his own goblet. Setting it back down on the table, Titus looked directly at Balem.

"It truly is a shame she was murdered in her prime."

Balem froze, his fingers curling tightly around the arms of his chair.

Titus smirked.

"Of course, I don't wish to seem ungrateful; if it weren't for Mother's unfortunate incident, my profits would never have reached the levels they are now and we wouldn't be having this chat, now would we?" Titus picked up his glass, holding it towards a Servitant to be refilled. "Come, brother, a toast."

Reaching for his glass, Balem watched his brother warily.

"To the kindness of Mother's foresight and the person who made it come to fruition. May her soul fly among the stars for eternity and a Recurrence never appear to try to take her place. To Mother!"

Titus drank, a smile on his face. Balem was sure he saw one of the servants look over to another, sure that she had realized that the youngest Abrasax Primary had just called out the eldest Abrasax Primary for the murder of their mother and _thanked him_.

Balem took a long drink of wine.

"Now then, brother, to business. What is it I can do for you? You clearly haven't come to chat as I had hoped, seeing as it is I who have done all the talking." Ah, there it was.

Taking a moment, Balem pressed his fingertips together as if forming a steeple as he readied to go into his prepared lie. "I recently went through some of Mother's sheaves, and I found something of interest. You see, part of the inheritance I received from her was a box that I believe holds her sheaves compiling integral pieces of her extensive research on her most lucrative planets. However, the box is locked. I believe the key to it was left accidentally among your inheritance."

"How very frustrating for you, Balem. I'm sure it must have been a mistake."

Balem stared dead ahead at Titus, who looked the very picture of put-on innocence. "Quite."

"What does this key look like, brother?"

Thinking back to the feed Mr. Night had received, Balem continued. "I believe Mother described it as a turquoise disk with a swirling emblem on it. If I remember correctly."

Looking as if he was deep in thought, Titus leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "A turquoise disc? With a swirl on it, hmm? Well brother, I'm afraid I shall be no help to you." He took a moment, thinking, and suddenly sat up. "Perhaps if you stayed the night, my Servitants could search through the remaining artifacts I received after the Ceremony of Titles. Goodness knows I received so many, I have yet had time to go through much of it. Most likely they'll find it packed away somewhere."

Balem kept quiet and didn't point out that he knew the key had recently been laying on a table in an otherwise empty room.

"Actually . . . now that I think of it, I do seem to remember something along that description. Yes, I believe I do. Would you like to have it, brother?"

"I would be most grateful," Balem rasped, pursing his lips.

"Is that so?" Titus looked at his brother, considering his options. "It seems, Balem, that if you require something from my inheritance—accidental inheritance or not—then I shall need something from you."

Balem stood fast, just barely refraining from shouting. "You will receive nothing from me, _brother_."

Titus laughed.

"Come now, do you truly believe I would be foolish enough to ask you to part with some precious planet or trinket?"

"I believe you foolish enough to attempt it, yes," Balem responded as calmly as possible as he sat back down.

Titus bowed his head. "I appreciate the honesty, Balem. A rare gift, indeed! No, I do not wish to have something expendable from you." Smirking from ear to ear, Titus leaned forward. "I want you to beg."

" _What_?"

Standing, Titus walked around the table and leaned over Balem. Reaching out, he gently grabbed his elder's chin and tilted his head up to look him in the eye. "I want you to go on your knees and beg me to give you Mother's key. Just this one small thing is all I ask, and it's yours. You never have to ask for it again."

Standing quickly, Balem knocked Titus' hand away and hissed through his teeth. "How dare you?! I am the First Primary of the House of Abrasax, the Abrasax Sovereign! _I do not beg_."

Titus barely flinched at the outburst and simply rolled his shoulders as he stepped coolly back. "Very well then, brother. I simply wanted the one thing I had foolishly believed you could part with."

' _Your pride_ ' hung unspoken at the end of Titus's sentence.

"Famulus will show you to a room for the night. I shall have my Servitants search for the key and deliver it to me the moment it's found."

The female splice from before, Famulus, stepped forward and nodded her head.

"Famulus, I believe my brother shall be most comfortable in that white and gold chamber we spoke of earlier."

"Yes, my lord," Famulus said with a smile before turning to Balem. "This way, sire."

As Balem followed Famulus out of the room, Titus called out one last time.

"Good night, brother. I wish for you the most pleasant of dreams."

Without turning to acknowledge his sibling, Balem left the hall.

—————

As Balem followed the deer-splice through the halls of his brother's ship, he couldn't help but gaze around at the fine tapestries and statues that filled in the empty spaces along the wall. Passing a painting that Balem clearly recognized as a piece from one of Titus' more prosperous planets, Kepler, Balem realized that he was walking through halls of stolen wealth. Titus had taken some of the most valuable goods from his planets and used them to decorate the interior of his own ship.

Balem was hardly surprised that his brother would go through such troublesome schemes in order to attempt to impress.

As they passed yet another servant who bowed to him as he walked by, Balem suddenly noticed that all of his brother's Servitants were human or splices with not a single droid in sight, save for the guards.

"Why is it that my brother does not keep Sims?"

Famulus barely faltered in her step but didn't look back. "Lord Titus prefers those around him to have a soft touch and supple skin, which a droid can not have, my lord."

Scoffing, Balem fell back to silence. He fully understood what it was that the deer-splice wasn't explicitly saying, and once again he was hardly surprised to learn something about his brother's activities.

"Here were are, sire," Famulus said as she stopped outside a large curved opening that led to a brilliantly lit white room. "I hope you'll find it to your liking. If there's anything that you need—"

"Enough," Balem interjected as he stepped into the room. "That shall be all."

Famulus nodded farewell to his back and left, a sleek wall of white and gold sliding across the opening of the room and hissing shut behind her.

Blinking to adjust his eyes to the bright, resounding white of the room, Balem took a closer look at his surroundings. Everything was white; the high ceiling, the walls, the floor, even the furniture and the finishings, broken up here and there only by some golden details, trinkets, and carvings. He found it an odd to have what few finishings there were so severely against the walls. Not a single thing was free-standing in the room. Even the anti-grav bed dais was set into the far wall and off the floor by a foot or two, making it look more like a balcony overlooking the empty floor than a bed.

Another odd thing that Balem noticed was that not a single rug covered the floor, leaving the shining white glass floor to reflect all the light right back around into the room.

Sighing, Balem looked around and noticed in one corner that a white tunic and loose pants were folded on a table. Sleeping robes. Scoffing at the fact there wasn't even a droid to assist him, Balem began to undo his clothes at the neck. It took longer than when his own Sims assist him, but soon enough Balem was out of his clothes and in the ones left by his brother's Servitants. The pants were loose and silken, but it wasn't until Balem put the tunic on that he realized that the shirt was a sheer white, and not solid as it had appeared when against the white of the table.

Balem couldn't decide if he wanted to strangle his brother for his audacity or congratulate him on providing sleeping clothes that, despite being white, made him look rather good. Looking down at the tunic's hem, he noticed that it, the cuff, and the neckline were decorated in little crystal and diamond beads that formed an intricate pattern and glittered in the light.

A congratulations, then.

After laying his own clothes on the table, Balem realized suddenly that he had no way to dim the lighting of the room. Looking around, he couldn't even see where the light source was. Was it the ceiling? The floor? The walls themselves? With everything being such a pure white and so brightly lit, Balem couldn't say one way or the other.

Walking towards the the sliding wall-door, Balem intended to call out for a servant to adjust the lighting. But he almost stumbled when he was mere inches from the door and it hadn't budged. Stepping back, Balem began to **hunt** around for a button or sensor that would activate the door.

The whole wall that the door was on was completely flat.

His brow furrowed and his breathing starting to become heavier, Balem walked harshly back to the door and stopped just before hitting it. Still nothing.

"Open this door," he called loudly, restraining himself as much as possible. After a few moments with no results, he hit the door with the palm of his hand to gain someone's attention. "Open this door!"

Silence.

Truly angry now, the Abrasax temper flowed at full steam as Balem hit the wall time and time again with both fists, screaming at the top of his lungs and calling with all his might. It went on until he kicked the wall, forgetting that he was shoeless. Stumbling over in pain, Balem fell down onto his knees and sat slumped on the ground, defeated.

He was locked in the room like a prisoner in a cell.

Breathing heavily, Balem stood and limped over towards the closest table, grabbed a heavy statuette and hauled it at the wall-door, watching as it satisfactorily smashed to pieces. Turning back to the table grabbed whatever he could and hurled it in frustration. A hand mirror, a vase, and a glass bell jar all went flying, meeting the wall with resounding crashes as Balem hoarsely shouted and grunted with frustration.

Finally exhausted, Balem sat in the middle of the empty floor, completely wiped out. He ran a shaky hand through his dishelved hair and regained his composure, unbridled anger making way to bitter loathing.

As he sat he heard a soft click he looked down to find that the floor had turned off, suddenly translucent.. Balem jumped up, caught completely off guard, before he realized that this floor had the same cloaking effect that the floor in his great hall has; a little trick that enables him to look down and watch the harvest in action without leaving the comfort of his cleaner, larger space.

Looking down into the room below, Balem saw that he was standing over a room much larger than the one he was in. He couldn't see most of the walls without putting his face close to the floor, and a large anti-grav platform sat in the center.

Balem tried to figure out why on earth is floor had turned off, assuming that whatever glitch had sealed the door shut had also turned off the opaqueness of the floor. Certainly this was all some mistake. He was just about to go to the door and try to call again when suddenly Titus came into view down below, dressed in a long red robe that dragged behind him. Famulus trailed close behind, and he could see that they were talking. Titus made a motion and the splice nodded, turning to say something over her shoulder.

Looking to where she had turned, Balem's eyes grew wide as all types of barely clothed splices descended a flight of stairs into the chamber, slinking towards the anti-grav platform and preparing themselves for . . . something. Balem dreaded to think what.

His attention was pulled towards his brother, who had just begun to remove his robe. As soon as Balem saw that Titus wore nothing beneath the robe save for a loose pair of pants, it became all to clear to him what was about to happen in the room beneath him. It was made all the more obvious once Titus stepped onto the the anti-grav platform and joined the eager splices in midair.

Balem couldn't help but watch as Titus stuck his tongue obtrusively into the mouth of one bird splice while pulling the hair of a scaled splice who was busy worrying his throat with her mouth. A third splice had her one hand around his waist, rubbing slowly up and down his stomach while her other hand caressed small circles along the small of the bird splice's back. Another two were floating nearby, amusing themselves by exploring each other's bodies.

It was all Balem could do to keep his meal from revisiting him when he suddenly realized that his brother could and, most probably, _would_  see him at any moment.

Hurrying over to his anti-grav bed dais in the hopes of hiding out of sight there, he froze when he realized that the anti-grav had shut down and that he had been to distracted to notice it. Had it happened when his floor turned off? Or was it the large anti-grav platform below him that was using all of the energy?

Balem peered down again only to immediately regret it as the scaled splice had her hand moving inside the front of his brother's pants.

Cursing Titus from here to the end of the universe, Balem looked around hastily for somewhere to hide himself away. Realizing that laying on the table was his best option, he quickly made his way to it while staying as close to the wall as possible. As he reached it he moved his clothes to one side and hauled himself up onto it, immediately laying down on top to be out of sight of those below.

Taking a deep breath, Balem closed his eyes tight and tried to wipe his mind as he rubbed his temples. He didn't want to even think about what his younger brother was even getting up to.

But if he _did_  watch, perhaps there was something he could learn to use against Titus . . .

Moving towards the edge of the table, Balem peered over the edge to look down through the floor and once more regretted his choices as he realized that in the few minutes he had been laying on the table, two male splices had joined the pleasure orgy.

Eyes wide, Balem let out a choked gasp right as one of the males—a lion splice splice from the look of that mane—put a finger in the youngest Abrasax sibling where a finger definitely should never go. Titus clearly enjoyed it, though, and pulled one of the female splices closer and began to feel her all over even as the lion splice grabbed Titus's throat from behind and held it firmly.

Balem was just beginning to look away again when Titus looked up, seemingly unsurprised that the ceiling had turned off to reveal the room above. Looking around as one of the splices stripped him of his pants, Titus quicklyng found Balem and locked eyes, a devious smirk playing at his lips as he pushed down hard against the lion splice's finger.

 _Titus was putting on a show_.

Shock sank to Balem's stomach like a stone as rage boiled up inside of him, fury creasing his brow as he sat up straight on the table, no longer able to hide. He suddenly remembered that Titus had mentioned this room earlier: ' _I believe my brother shall be most comfortable in that white and gold chamber we spoke of earlier_ ,' he had said to Famulus. It dawned on Balem that this had all been staged. Titus had wanted his elder brother to see him, to see him like this, to see him in the state that would make Balem the most uncomfortable.

And it had worked.

That, if nothing else, was what made Balem the angriest. That Titus had successfully managed to trick him was something that would take hundreds of years for Balem to fully get past, and Titus knew it. Watching his younger brother, Balem's thoughts turned to how he might be able to use this to his advantage in the future. In the meantime, Balem knew there was no hiding. Now he needed to show Titus just how much this act had no affect on him.

Swinging his legs off the table, Balem got up and stood further into the room, looking down and observing all that went on below. Titus kept eye contact as much as possible, occasionally closing his eyes in the heat of the moment.

Looking on in disgust, Balem sneered down as the pace picked up. Eyes open and locked on his brother's, Titus reached his climax and released into the mouth of one of the splices. Watching his brother in such a way felt for Balem like little more than watching a harvest through the floor of his great hall. He was removed, clinical, and held himself in a manner that exuded importance. He was determined to not allow this to affect him, and he was had succeeded. Or at least, he carried himself as if he had succeeded.

As the splices lowered and departed, Titus hung in the air breathing heavily, eventually reaching down to slip his pants back up his legs and descending. Slipping back into the robe a Servitant had held for him, he looked up at Balem once more. They held each others gaze—one in preening triumph, the other in utter contempt—before Titus bowed and left the chamber.

Suddenly the floor turned back on, and Balem could see the anti-grav of his bed dais suddenly turned back on. Hurrying to the door, Balem tried to get it to open with no luck. He was still a prisoner, but at least now his cell was a private one.

Slowly going back to the bed dais, Balem allowed himself to float up into the air. Visions of his brother's limbs entangled in those of female and male splices kept him from sleeping as his mind worked on ways to use this against Titus.

Balem was in for a long, sleepless night.

—————

Early the next morning found Balem already clothed in his own things, as he had been for hours. Sitting in one of the chairs along the wall, he had lost count of the times he had gotten up to pace around the room and in front of the door when suddenly the wall-door opened, revealing a smiling Famulus.

"Good morning, sire. Did you have a pleasant sleep?"

Scowling, Balem walked quickly towards the splice. "Where is my brother?"

"Lord Titus is waiting to receive you in the dining hall for a breakfast of various fruits—"

Balem pushed past the splice, determined to make his brother pay.

"I should warn you, my lord," Famulus called after him as she followed at a slower pace, "that Lord Titus is also entertaining another guest—"

Spinning around, Balem's anger finally spilled over. "I DO NOT CARE! I DO NOT CARE IF MY BROTHER IS ENTERTAINING ANYONE!" Calming, he continued at a hoarse whisper. "The more fool him, for it shall just create an audience to his shame."

Famulus kept silent as Balem turned and continued, smiling knowingly as she followed at a normal pace.

As Balem approached the dining hall, he considered his approach. He had to seem collected, he knew that. Last night had given him plenty of time to think things over, and he needed to stay level-headed in the meeting to come. As soon as he turned the corner and entered the dining hall, however, he froze as soon as he saw Kalique sitting at the table, laughing at whatever Titus had just said.

"Sister," Balem murmured, shocked to see her.

Turning in surprise, Kalique's youthful face immediately lit up with a smile.

"Balem! How wonderful to see you. Titus did not tell me that he had invited you, as well!"

Glancing to where their brother sat with a smile, the eldest Abrasax looked at him hard. "Did he not?"

"I suppose it slipped my mind," Titus said flippantly, not breaking Balem's gaze.

"Liar, you knew very well Balem was coming or else he wouldn't be here."

"You caught me," Titus replied, looking back at Kalique. "I see I can not lie to you, dear sister. In truth, I simply wished us all to gather to enjoy our company. Alas, Balem informed me that he wouldn't be staying long." Shifting his gaze back to Balem, he continued. "Isn't that right, brother?"

A moment of silence hung in the room before Balem replied, moving towards Kalique.

"Titus is correct, dear sister. I have simply come to see you briefly, and then I must be off."

"I believe you also mentioned something about a key," Titus cut in. "A turquoise one, was it not?"

"It was," Balem said, glaring down at his brother.

"Yes, I believe I have it on hand, but brother . . . you _know_  it was part of my inheritance, do you not?"

Gritting his teeth, Balem nodded once.

"Well, I am afraid I can not simply give you part of my inheritance . . ." Grinning, Titus stood and moved so that he was a few feet before his elder brother. Balem couldn't help but feel like Titus was purposefully re-enacting the conversation that lead to the previous night's humiliating event.

Kalique immediately felt as if she were missing something, as if she were witnessing the tail end of a conversation somehow. There were too many unspoken yet acknowledged things hanging in the air between her brothers. "What is all this about a key?"

"Balem has discovered that the key to a box in his inheritance was . . . accidentally left among my part of our inheritance. He wishes to have the key to get to some of Mother's sheaves in the box."

"Oh, do simply give him the key, Titus," Kalique said, feeling as if she needed to step in before things had a chance to go to far. "If Balem has the box, certainly our Mother would want him to have the key."

"Ah, but that is just the thing, sister," Titus said, smiling as he turned back to a silently fuming Balem. "If Mother wanted our dear brother here to see the sheaves inside the box, she would have left it with him. Who is to say that he was accidentally left the box, while I, the one who has the key, am the proper one to open it? No, if I give our brother here the key, I am afraid I will need something in return."

"Have you not taken enough?"

Titus smirked, and Kalique leaned forward in her chair, certain she had misheard her eldest brother's hoarse whisper and now more sure than ever that she was seeing something that had been boiling between her older and younger siblings.

"I promise to not ask for any material wealth or trinkets, as you ask of me with the key—"

"Wonderful," Kalique cut in with a clap, "Then perhaps we can get on with our meal? Balem, would you care to sit?"

"I still need something from him, dear sister." Turning once more to Balem, Titus grew serious. "I ask that you beg for it."

Kalique gasped softly, and Balem balled his fist so tight that his nails bit into his skin.

"It is nothing permanent, brother, just this one fleeting moment and then the key is yours. Consider it part of the legalities of title transference, if you will, just with less paper work."

Balem glared at Titus, hate filling him more than ever. But Balem had seen just how manipulative and cunning his brother had gotten while he wasn't looking, and he knew that the last thing Titus truly expected was for Balem's instant compliance. As soon as Balem got down on his knees, Titus' eyebrows shot up in surprise before he could catch himself from reacting. Once again Kalique gasped, unsure what to do.

"I beg you, _brother_ ," Balem began through clenched teeth, "that you return the key to me."

Titus smiled slyly and stepped even closer, invading Balem's space and forcing the elder Abrasax to look up at him. Balem tried not to pay attention to how close his face was to hitting the front of his brother's pants.

"I'm sorry, Balem, what was that? I am afraid I couldn't quite hear you."

" _Titus_ ," Kalique hissed, unsure if it was fear for her brother or fear of him starting to creep up inside her, nor was she sure which feeling was directed at which brother. The two Abrasax brothers were beginning to appear like wild animals, circling each other over a small scrap of meat.

Ignoring her, Balem tried again. "Brother, on my knees I beg your favor. I ask that you give me the key to Mother's box. This I beg you . . ." Balem paused, taking a breath and once again clenching his fists. ". . . with all my heart."

Titus smirked. "It is ever so good to hear that you have one, brother! Please, do stand up."

Rising slowly, Balem refused to look anywhere but at Titus, who was smiling as if he had just inherited Balem's share of Abrasax Industries.

"Now, I believe the key is somewhere around . . . ah, Famulus!" Coming forward, the splice pulled out a turquoise disk from a hidden pocket, making Balem realize that it had been within his grasp from the moment he had been released from his room.

"My lord," Famulus said as she handed Titus the key. Turning to Balem, Titus bowed as he stretched out his hand. Snatching the key, Balem turned to his sister and nodded slightly. Bowing her head, Kalique finally closed her mouth and drew behind a neutral, respectful demeanor. She would have strong words for her youngest brother once Balem had left.

Turning on his heel, Balem made his way briskly past Famulus and towards the door. Reaching the stairs, he paused as Titus called out.

"Oh, and brother, I believe some of your Sims somehow got left behind on my ship at some point." Balem froze, realizing that Titus knew about his droids. That Titus knew his droids had seen the key.

That Titus had set this whole scenario up from the very beginning when he let Balem's droids see the key on the table.

"I believe it would be best for you to take them, don't you agree?"

Looking over his shoulder at Titus, Balem sneered coldly before turning to leave as his brother raised a glass in toast to him.

Clenching the key tightly in his hand, Balem resolved that this was the last time he would ever meet with Titus in person.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! It's done! Although it was due on Saturday 8/29, I found out about the JA Fic Challenge on Wednesday 8/26, penned an outline right then, and then wrote a couple of hours each day. I worked on it exactly a week, and I am ridiculously happy with it!
> 
> While writing this, I listened exclusively to the new Muse album, DRONES. It's very Balem.
> 
> Huge shoutout to fuckyeahjupiterascending.tumblr.com and the Jupiter Ascending wikia! They were valuable resources, and fyja set up the Challenge! Another great resource was watching the movie with the English for the Visually Impaired audio track on as I wrote, so I could apply film-verse accurate terminology as often as I could.
> 
> (I'm unsure if Servitant = servant, as Titus merely mentions that Caine attacked one as a lie to Jupiter, but I chose to use it as such since Titus has zero Sims/droids outside of the ones he brings in for the wedding and his regular retinue of guards. Everyone else is human or a splice that works for him, so I took artistic license.)
> 
> Although this is just a year after Seraphi's murder, I chose to include Mr. Night and Famulus. In my head, they also get treated to premium Abrasax grade RegenX, due to their importance and high ranks with Balem and Titus, respectfully. So they're also older than they appear. And yes, the planet Titus talks fondly about visiting is Earth!
> 
> Huge thanks to my best friend Sarah for beta reading! As always you can find a reblogable version of this at aeolians.tumblr.com and can find me at seanfmcguire.tumblr.com!


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